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 Posted: Mon Aug 17, 2009 8:19 am
If one were to come across the aged Deep Woods Teacher Hazel, one would begin to suspect that she wasn't quite herself- especially if that person was one of her pupils! The crotchety, stubborn old bird, out for an early evening hunt, was practically humming as she searched for something to eat. Her usual fierce look was replaced with a smile that could almost be classified as silly, and her eyes beamed pride, not the hunger of a hunt. The truth was, Hazel was in a better mood than she'd been in in absolute years. Her granddaughter, her beautiful little Willowbreeze, was going to have a fine mate and produce fine chicks to continue a fine bloodline that she, frankly, was honored to be a contributor towards. A new generation of Chestnuts! Although nothing was really official yet, all parties involved seemed quite agreeable towards the arrangement, and she just knew that their first clutch would be lovely and large. Landing on a large branch, she fluffed herself, then smoothed her feathers, waiting for a squirrel or rabbit to cross her field of vision. The happiness practically made her feel young again, just as spry and fast as she once was, when she herself had been approached by the Chestnuts. Perhaps it was just grandmotherly pride speaking, or perhaps it was just vanity, but as she watched and waited, looking for prey, she practically glowed with happiness. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could spoil her evening.
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Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2009 5:40 pm
Sorrel was a stubborn, old fellow.
Old habits and old grudges died hard, especially as he gained seasons in his life. There would still be many left ahead of him, so long as he took care, and he was well enough aware of that. He had many important things left to do, namely knocking some sense into the thick skulls of the younger generations.
But some my own age are just as bad...
This thought only crossed his mind as his pale orbs, as sharp as ever, caught sight of a familiar form perch high above the forest floor. His gaze hardened and he shifted slightly on his own perch, a thick and gnarled thing far older than he, and dug his claws deep into the bark.
The fact that she and he would happen to be so near each other boiled the blood beneath his feathers and he grunted indignantly. It would be no good watching for prey if she were there, in the same area. That was the next thought that crossed his mind.
Any Deep Woods willing to taint her bloodlines was daft, in his opinion, and likely to spoil any hunting wherever she went. After all, she must be either daft in the head or completely ignorant.
He belted out a disgruntled hoot to her, a fellow teacher for whom he held very little respect.
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Posted: Wed Aug 19, 2009 4:43 am
Hazel thought she spotted some movement in the underbrush, but an annoyed call caught her attention. She twisted her head around to catch the form of a fellow Deep Woods, a male about her age. She knew him- he, too, was a Teacher. Sorrel, that was his name, wasn't it? While they weren't close, they were colleagues, and from the sound of his hoot, he wasn't quite happy about that. Oh dear; it seemed she'd made quite the mistake. These must be his personal hunting grounds. Hazel blinked apologetically a few times, then flapped over to be closer to the male's perch- not the closeness of friendship, but just close enough to be heard without frightening away prey. She adjusted her posture when she landed from the proud, fluffed-up thing she'd been, for she didn't want to start any sort of a fight for territory; males could be so easily offended by offenses made in ignorance. She was somewhat smaller than him; it wasn't too hard to shrink even smaller, the picture of ancient contriteness.
"Terribly sorry," she said quietly, "but I didn't know that this was your territory. Shall I head out?" Intrusion, after all, would be the only reason for him to hoot at her so grouchily; a bad day was no excuse for ill manners, after all, but intrusion into somebody else's territory was a rather ungraceful faux pas. She didn't remember him living here, but of course, Sentinels weren't stationary. He could have moved- it was always a possibility.
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